


WinterIron - Love Letters

by tisfan



Series: Candy Hearts [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Guilt, Love Letters, M/M, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Slash, Tony Being Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 16:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13594161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky’s writing love-letters and Tony’s arguing with his AI. Just another day in the Tower.





	WinterIron - Love Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [27dragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/gifts), [justanotherpipedream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherpipedream/gifts).



_Dear Tony,_

_Every day, I’m fighting this. But today, it’s harder than it ever was before, because today, I think you actually looked across the table and saw me. Not the way you usually do, pretending I’m not really there, or that the person whose body was used to do such horrible things, who took from you everything, is just another Avenger. Another teammate, and you keep so much distance between you and your teammates these days._

_Not that anyone can blame you. Steve keeps telling me there was nothing I could do, that it wasn’t me. That I didn’t have a choice._

_Maybe that’s true, but in this, I do. I can keep this to myself and not cause you any more pain._

_But today you looked, you looked at me. You saw me. Not the Winter Soldier, not the person who carries so much guilt and weight and blood, but me. You looked at me and you saw a man._

_Just. Some days, it’s hard. The realization that i’m missing so much. That every day that passes is another day where I can’t just tell you. That I can’t be close to you. It’s gnawing at my heart._

_All my love, Bucky_

***

_Video log, workshop_

“Hey, hey, Dummy, what are you doing in the corner? Blood on the floor, clean it up! That’s what you do, you want to stop wearing the Hat of Shame?”

Tony storms around the workshop like an engineering tornado, sweeping parts off worktables and onto the floor with a crash. He’s got a bandage around his right wrist and there’s grease on his hands and face.

“Friday, bring me up the specs on the arm, Chassis XII, be a doll.”

“Boss, Sgt. Barnes has not reported any malfunctions.”

“Yeah, well, he never does, does he? Only if the damn thing’s about falling off. But he was having trouble with the elbow, there was at least a seventeen percent decrease in available torque--”

“If Sgt. Barnes doesn’t report to maintenance, boss, I remind you that you gave a directive--”

“I know, I know,” Tony says. He runs a hand through his hair, smearing more grease into it. “Stay away from the World War Twosome, I know. Jesus, JARVIS wasn’t such a nag.”

“Perhaps my perusal of records is missing something, boss, but JARVIS had your best interests in mind. As do I.”

“Friday, you’re a sweetheart, I love you and I’ll buy you a diamond necklace. But. In the meantime, bring up the goddamn specs. I’m not going to have anyone on my team getting hurt because their gear’s not up to snuff! I’ll… tell Vision about it or something. He’s pretty good with the not being able to keep his damn mouth shut, and then Steve will nag until Barnes shows up for some rest and repair.”

“Continue to lie to yourself, boss,” Friday says, “and someday, I might even believe you.”

“God, you’re a bitch. Did I program you to be a bitch?”

“I learned from the best, boss.”

***

_...it’s a beautiful summer evening. I think he just actually got out of bed, but the sunset is nice. I shouldn’t stay here, he never wants me around, but I was already writing, so here I am, watching him. In the kitchen. The faint hum and burr of the refrigerator provides a little welcome noise. He’s not talking. Made himself coffee and he’s staring in the pantry like he expects food to just appear._

_I swear to christ i’d even eat his cooking, if he made anything. I keep thinking i’ll offer -- if there’s one thing i know how to do that’s not bloodshed and violence, it’s cooking._

_Looking out the window and the sun’s gone down. I dont even know where anyone else is. This may be the longest time i’ve spent in his company alone, and he still hasn’t said a word. I know that’s weird. Everyone told me, in the beginning, that Tony talks too much._

_I looked over my shoulder and there’s the moon, all pink and fat and coming up in the sky and i think to myself that i am becoming immune to it. I look and i think ‘oh, that’s beautiful… so what?’ everything else is ugly and cold compared to him and I can’t stop watching him. And writing these notes but no one ever knows what I’m writing. No one ever asks._

_Part of my therapy, i’d say, if steve asked._

_The only one i’m worried about it the black widow, she can read russian. But she’d never say anything unless she thought she could use it._

_That damned moon keeps shining._

***

Video log; workshop

“Well, that… was that creepy, Friday?” Tony rubs his arms as if he’s cold. He ends the gesture with a rub at his wrist, turning it slowly. His hand is shaking. His hand always shakes.

“Creep: the slow and inexorable movement of soil downhill.”

Tony taps his finger on his lower lip, then waggles it at her. “I can’t always tell when you’re being sarcastic or when you’re asking for clarification. Check the logs. Did he, or did he not, spend the entire hour I was down in the kitchen _staring_ at me?”

“Report: of the forty-seven minutes you were both in the kitchen, Barnes spent twenty-three minutes watching you by pattern analysis of eye movement. Six minutes staring at nothing. Seven minutes and twenty seconds in contemplation of the moon outside the window. And eight and a half minutes writing in his notebook.”

“Writing? What was he _writing_? Why does anyone write things anymore? That’s what they have StarkPads for.”

“I believe I have overheard Captain Rogers saying he was uncertain that the StarkPads were secured.”

Tony makes a scoffing noise. “I designed those to be as secure as possible.”

“It is probably why he doesn’t trust them.”

“You are fired. I’m going to break you down and sell your spare parts to a community college.”

“If I had shoes, I’d be shaking in them.”

“Fired, Friday.”

***

Dear Tony

Thank you for your work on the new arm. ~~It’s just as lovely as you are~~

Thanks for helping out

~~Thank you for caring enough to~~

Tony, I

Fuck

~~I love you~~

God, this is so stupid

***

Video log, workshop

Tony stares at the crumpled up piece of paper on his work table.

“Where did you even get this from, Dummy? Friday, is he leaving the workshop? How is he leaving the workshop, I’m pretty sure Keep Dummy in the ‘shop is your prime fucking directive!”

***

“So, uh…”

Tony leaned in the doorframe, like he wasn’t sure he had permission to be in Bucky’s quarters.

Point of fact, he wasn’t in Bucky’s quarters. His toes -- and heaven help Bucky, because he noticed that Tony wasn’t wearing shoes. He wasn’t wearing the Suit, he wasn’t even wearing a suit. He was in ratty jeans, a thermal with a tee over it, and he had grease all over his hands, wrists, and chin. And his bare toes were right there on the threshold to Bucky’s room, but he hadn’t come in.

“Hi.” Bucky made a shapeless gesture. “You… uh, want to come in?”

“I don’t know yet,” Tony said. “I think one of my bots might have been invading your privacy and I wanted-- here.” Tony held out a crumpled piece of notebook paper. Bucky whirled and stared into his trash can. It was empty; the dozens of drafts of last night’s thank you note had been tossed, gone.

“Shit.”

“Do… um. We need to talk about this, or should I just pretend I never saw it, because I’m good at pretending things like that, but if you want to… if you want to talk about it, I wouldn’t mind having a conversation over a cup of coffee or something?”

“Are you askin’ me on a date?”

“No. Absolutely not, no, just… only if that’s… okay, yes. If you want it to be a date, it can be a date. I was more thinking pre-date festivities or something, but date. Date is good.”

Bucky closed the distance between them until he was right up on Tony’s personal space. “A date is good.”


End file.
